


CONTROL

by EvanBlack



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, First Time, M/M, Post-Episode: s06e04-05 Dreamland
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-19 14:33:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22112383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvanBlack/pseuds/EvanBlack
Summary: Things get hot downstairs and even hotter upstairs
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully, Fox Mulder/Walter Skinner
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	CONTROL

**Author's Note:**

> Please do not re-post to any other site without writer's permission.

Assistant Director Walter Skinner looked at his watch and waited. He felt a seed of irritation germinate in his gut and blossom into a low, frustrated anger.

How long would Mulder and Scully make him wait this time? He was their boss, for Chrissakes! 

Over the years he'd got familiar with this feeling. He'd call them in for 10am, they'd arrive at 10.15. Or Scully would arrive and make feeble excuses for her partner - excuses so bad she couldn't even look him in the eye across his big fancy desk. Mulder's very fragile right now. Mulder was drugged. You have to understand how important this is to Mulder. 

Sometimes they just didn't show up at all. After 15 minutes he'd be angry; after 30 he'd be furious; after 45 minutes he'd start worrying like a mother waiting for her kids to get home safely from school. And when he eventually did see them - usually sporting new stitches and bandages, or lying in a hospital in some godforsaken redneck town - he'd have that same maternal feeling that he'd like to shake Mulder hard for making him worry (Don't you EVER do that again!) - before embracing them both in relief.

He looked at his watch again. They were 15 minutes late for a meeting they'd had time to prepare for since Friday. 15 minutes was just enough time to get him nicely hot under the collar. 

Skinner pressed his intercom: 'Go find them will you Kimberly?'  
'Yes sir.'  
And what was the betting that when they DID get here - IF they got here - Mulder would be his usual arrogant, sulky, self-righteous self? Skinner picked up a sheaf of papers on his desk and thumped them down again as his annoyance grew.

Ten minutes later the door opened and Kim showed Mulder and Scully into his office. Scully looked cool and elegant as usual. Damn, she was beautiful. He noticed that her lips were particularly pouty today - maybe she was wearing a new, deeper shade of lipstick; her lips looked almost swollen - as if she'd been kissed hard, thought Skinner, and that made his stomach give a happy little flip.

'We're very sorry we're late, sir.' She met his eyes, but only briefly, before her clear blue gaze flickered away from him, back down to a spot somewhere between her delicate feet and his desk.

'I'm sure YOU are, Agent Scully.' His voice was tight with sarcasm she could not fail to notice, and he saw her shift uncomfortably in her seat. At least he could always make himself believe an apology from Scully. He thought she meant them most of the time.

Not so Mulder. Skinner turned to the bane of his life: Agent Fox Mulder, and what he saw surprised him. 

He was used to seeing Mulder in that chair in a variety of moods. Sullen was a common one - Mulder's wide, too-beautiful-for-a-man mouth was tailor-made for sullen. Distant was another Fox Mulder speciality - the one where his green eyes gazed blankly at a point somewhere just north of Skinner's left shoulder throughout their meeting, and where he answered every question asked of him with the minimum of monosyllables - like it was some kind of competition. Sometimes Mulder was passionate, obsessed with the latest X-file goose-chase, exuding a boyish enthusiasm which Skinner found it hard not to be caught up in, but which he knew it was his job to temper. On a few occasions he'd seen Mulder filled with angst, and at those times Skinner went easy on him because Mulder seemed so impossibly vulnerable. Those were the meetings where Mulder's gaze never rose above the level of his own shoes, and Skinner could barely see his eyes under his thick, spiky lashes. At those times, Skinner and Scully conducted the meeting as if Mulder was not in the room. He would wander in behind Scully, dazed, slump in the chair - all knees and elbows like an overgrown teenager - and follow his partner out at the end of their audience, still silent and closed to anyone. 

Anyone but Scully, thought Skinner, surprising himself with the bitterness of his thought. 

But today, there was something very different about Mulder. Something Skinner had never seen before: 

Mulder was fidgety. 

He sat near the edge of his seat, leaning slightly forward, his fingers laced in front of him. Ten seconds later, as Scully debriefed Skinner about a trip they'd taken to Nevada which appeared to have yielded nothing but some hefty expenses, Skinner was distracted as Mulder un-laced his fingers and pushed himself to the back of the seat. He crossed his legs in that irritatingly elegant way that Europeans and Mulder seemed to pull off, and which made everyone else look like a fucking queer. Skinner shot him an irritated glance but couldn't make eye-contact; Mulder was looking round like he'd never been in the AD's office before today. Skinner sighed inwardly and tried to concentrate on what Scully was saying. It wasn't often she was deadly dull, but today he was having real trouble giving a shit what she was talking about.

If Scully had been able to read Walter Skinner's mind, she would have been gratified by his assessment of her report. What she was saying was deliberately boring, if only he'd known. The trip to Nevada was a mystery to Scully as much as it was to Skinner - and Mulder. She and Mulder had all these receipts for gas and motel rooms near Area 51, but neither of them could remember why. All they could remember about the trip was driving in the dark of the desert, and then being back in DC with only a brand new waterbed in Mulder's oddly-tidy apartment to show for it. And the waterbed didn't even HAVE a receipt. Scully had been in favour of eating the expenses themselves, rather than try to justify what they had no memory of. But Mulder said he had a very cool story to cover their asses on this one, and had promised to sell it to AD Skinner, or pay her share of the exes himself. It was a win-win situation, Scully figured, and had agreed. As long as Mulder did the talking, she'd back him up.

And then things had got a little.... different... down in the basement this morning... Scully shifted slightly in her seat at the sudden memory. And now the cat had got Mulder's tongue and so - once again - it fell to her to try and talk them out of an awkward spot. Scully had decided that the more boring she made the Nevada trip sound, the sooner Skinner would throw up his hands, sign off on their expenses and let them go. So far she was pretty pleased her performance. Now if only Mulder would SIT STILL, maybe they'd all get out of here with their dignity and expense sheets intact.

Skinner glared round as Mulder's fidgeting distracted him again. This time the agent cleared his throat and crossed his legs the other way. 

'Is there something wrong Agent Mulder?'

Mulder looked at him with the wide, innocent eyes of a ten-year-old who has just put a baseball through a hothouse roof. 'Sir?'

'Can you shed any light on this Mulder? Because Agent Scully's not doing her usual bang-up job.'

Scully fired a meaningful look at Mulder which Skinner clocked. The look said: 'Yes Mulder! help me out here!'

But Mulder only shifted position again and dropped his hands in his lap. 'Uh, no sir. I think Agent Scully has it, er, covered.'

Skinner thought he heard a hiss of annoyance from Scully, but when he looked at her she was externally serene and looking at him levelly.

Skinner glanced back at Mulder just as the agent once more wriggled about in his chair - and it hit him like a thunderbolt. 

Mulder had a goddamned hard-on!

**************************************

Special Agent Fox Mulder did indeed have a quite uncomfortably large erection, and with good cause. 

He and Scully had been about to leave for their meeting with Skinner and for once they were in plenty of time. This was going to be a hard enough sell without pissing the AD off at the outset by being late. 

Scully was still dubious about their explanation but Mulder was dogged. 'Seriously Scully, leave it to me. Anyway, the very fact that we were in Nevada close to Area 51 PROVES that we were working on an X-file!'

'But we can't remember that.'

'Which further proves my point. We have missing time evident, or at least missing memory.'

'Accounting won't see it that way. They'll only see missing receipts. And if we don't have a report to file, they'll say we were taking a pleasure trip.'

'To the middle of the Nevada desert, Scully?' He rolled his eyes sarcastically: 'How much pleasure can one woman take?'

'I really wouldn't know, Mulder,' she shot back, before her brain had time to censor her mouth the way it usually did. Mulder's jaw dropped open and he raised his eyebrows, then he started to laugh as he realized she'd said more than she'd intended to. Scully felt her redhead's pale skin betray her hotly. She wanted to slap Mulder for the grinning schoolboy that he was, but at the same time she couldn't help joining him with a reluctant smile as she slid an embarrassed look his way. 'That didn't come out right,' she protested.

'Don't worry Scully. I wouldn't know either.' his shrug and self-deprecating comment made her feel better, but it also put an unbidden and unexpectedly filthy picture of Mulder in her head. 

Over their years together, she'd wondered...okay, fantasized... about him on many occasions. Most of those fantasies involved her too, but sometimes she liked to imagine watching him with another woman (although NEVER with Diana Fowley, she scowled). On a couple of shame-making occasions she'd even imagined him with another man. But in all those years, she'd never imagined Fox Mulder, sexually, on his own. 

Doing things to himself. 

Of course, he must, she thought quickly - everybody did, didn't they? But the mental image of Mulder, naked, touching himself, hardening, stroking, thrusting into his own fist - that image had never visited her until this very moment, and her mouth went dry at the thought.

'Scully, you're blushing.'

Damn her red hair! Couldn't she keep one damned thing secret?!

'Let's go Mulder. We'll be late. You know how Skinner hates that.'

She brushed past him and walked brusquely to her desk and picked up the receipts. Then she turned for the door, only to find her partner's lanky frame parked there, blocking her way. She knew what he was like - along with the witty innuendos he loved to throw her way, Mulder had a way of, well, getting in her way. Their hands were always brushing as they reached for things; their shoulders nudged as they walked; their thighs burned when they sat together. His huge great legs and feet and hands were forever bumping and touching her. She'd seen Mulder play basketball and knew that he had total control over his lithe, graceful body - but that control seemed to vanish around her. She was used to ignoring it or even pushing him away when he got too close to her. But this time, when she looked up at Mulder, she could see this was different. There was still a remnant of amusement in his dark green eyes, but there was something intangible there too - something she'd never seen before. 

'Let's go Mulder.' her voice came out a little high and not quite even. 

'Go where?'

'Skinner's office.'

'Don't you want to wait until you're not so red in the face?' he teased.

His words had the effect of making the blush flare once more just as it had started to subside. She raised an eyebrow, avoiding his eyes by looking at his mouth. It was a bad ploy; Mulder's mouth was the sexiest she'd ever seen and just looking at it made her imagine it closing around her nipple. She cleared her throat and looked at the knot in his tie, which was conveniently at eye-level. There. That was better.

'Don't make me hurt you Mulder.'

'I'd like to see you try.' He spread his arms and beckoned her forward with his fingers in a macho challenge. 'C'mon Scully, gimme your best shot.'

He looked so darned cute, she thought. Special Agent Fox Mulder, in his white shirt and ugly tie. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows, hips thrust forward in pseudo-machismo, waggling his fingers at her like a goodfella, while his eyes teased her and begged her to play.

Of course, she didn't let a single hint of this thought appear on her face. She'd had six years of keeping her little mind-lapses from him, and it was second nature now.

She sighed, then put a hand on his chest as if to push him aside, but he caught her wrist and held it there, pressed against his shirt. Looking down into her upturned face, his voice came out husky and so sexy she felt her throat tighten.

'Careful Scully. I think I could take you.'

His mouth twitched at the corner but his eyes were deep and dark. She stared at the back of her own hand, half-hidden by his. Mulder should be pale after all the years he'd spent in this basement, but his hand and arm seemed tanned and big and very masculine next to hers. She looked at his long, strong fingers, the muscles flexed in his forearm, and the soft dark hairs there that made her suddenly think of his naked, primitive body under the civilizing influence of his neat, FBI 'uniform'. 

The silence between them grew to the point where she could no longer regard this as teasing and, in that chasm of suspended time, she suddenly became aware of his heart beating hard under her hand. A shiver ran through her and she looked up into his face. Mulder's eyes were intense, his lips were parted and Scully could feel, rather than hear, his fast, shallow breaths. 

'Scully.' Her name on his lips at that moment meant everything - question and answer, hope and disappointment, pleasure and pain.

She opened her mouth to speak, but found her head too full of the sight and scent of him to say a word.

Holding her eyes with his, Mulder steered her hand slowly down his ribs and stomach. Scully could feel the heat of his skin through the freshly-laundered shirt. She felt his abs twitch under her touch and a small gasp escaped her as the flesh between her legs responded in kind and she felt moisture flood her, making her ready. She bit her lip and the grip he had on her wrist tightened as he saw it.

She felt his belt buckle pass upwards along her hot palm, and...  
(Mulder don't. Mulder I-- We should-- Please--)...and suddenly he was pressing her hand against the length of his erection. 

'Oh!' She felt the ridge swell under her hand, and the excitement as Mulder jerked against her involuntarily and let out a groan of pure desire. She felt her own juices overflow and run down her legs as he pressed her hand to his sex. She could hardly breathe. Six years. Six years, and all she'd had to do was reach out and touch him, and here they were... Her palm had been flat against his chest and hard belly, but now she looked down and curled her hand slowly around him, feeling the burning heat through his charcoal suit pants.

'Oh Mulder...'

She looked back up into his face. His eyes were half-closed with passion as she squeezed and stroked. She'd thought he was fully hard, but he just kept growing under her touch. He bit his gorgeous lip and let go her hand, trusting that she would keep it on his straining cock now. He dipped one shoulder and ran a hand up under her skirt, pulling it up with him. His touch on her naked thigh made her give a small cry of excitement and she dragged her nails down the material over his cock. He thrust hard at her. 'Ungggg Scully!!' For a second she thought he'd come and that it was all over, but his liquid, half-closed eyes told her he was still in control - if only barely. 

Scully felt dizzy. What was happening? Bare moments ago she and her partner were going through their usual routine of teasing banter. But now, everything was different, nothing was the same, and the most different thing was the raging, burning HEAT between her legs, that consumed every other part of her, making it hard to stand or move or think. Where had this come from? Scully pushed the question away as irrelevant. Who cared? It was here. Now. That's all that mattered - maybe all that would ever matter.

He turned her now so her back was pressed against the door, and bit her nipple through her shirt, forcing guttural animal sounds from her throat as she held onto his soft hair. His hand was on her ass, and she felt it dip into her panties. Needing his touch more desperately than that, she pulled him round to the front of her. Her hips bucked into his fingers and Mulder - looking into her face - saw her eyes widen in shock as she suddenly lost control. As he felt her orgasm start to shudder through her, Mulder tore her panties off with a single violent rip, and shoved two slick fingers into her.

AH! Fuck! Mulder! 

She shouted his name as she jerked and thrust on his hand. 

Mulder held her and watched her, and waited for the convulsive pumping on his fingers to slow down before he withdrew from her. He drew his hand up and touched his tongue to her scent, then ran a single silken finger across her lips, leaving the evidence of her need there like a brand - a mark of possession. She could barely stand - he had to hold her in place with one hand while he feverishly opened his pants with the other. In her dazed state, Scully only caught a glimpse of the outline of his big cock bulging in gray cotton boxers - snaking up and across his hip - before a knock on the door made them both freeze.

The handle rattled and Scully yanked her skirt back into place before realizing that Mulder must have locked the door. She shot him a look and he had the cheek to give a lopsided grin and a helpless shrug. But thank god he had, she thought. 

'Agents?' it was Kimberly. No doubt sent by Skinner to look for them.

'Shit.' Mulder whispered at Scully, one hand pressing his cock through his boxers. 

After a moment of silence, they heard Kimberly click away down the corridor.

On shaking legs, Scully did up her suit jacket so the marks left on her shirt by Mulder's mouth could not be seen. Her sex was still twitching and spasming from the orgasm, but her mind was slowly climbing north once more, and their need to get to Skinner's office had now re-entered her consciousness.

'What are you doing Scully?' 

She picked up her wet panties and ran them up her legs to clean most of her juices off herself. Mulder watched and groaned, starting to rub himself through the thin cotton of his shorts with the hand that was still glistening from her.

'Don't' he moaned.

Scully tried not to look. If she looked, she'd be lost. She dropped the panties in the wastebasket and straightened her hair with shaking hands.

'We'd better go Mulder.'

'That's all right for you to say,' he whined 'I haven't even COME yet.'

He didn't move, but Scully unlocked the door. Mulder looked at her in desperation, biting his lip as he held himself tightly, his hips making small involuntary spasms.

'Scully! Can't I..? Just...? Please? It won't take long. At all.'

Scully suddenly moved back to face her partner. He gasped and closed his eyes in pleasure as her hands reached for him. (Oh god, Scully. Yes.) Then opened them and frowned in disappointment as she manhandled his rigid boxers back under his suit pants and - with some difficulty - zipped him up. 

Scully grinned. 

'Think pure thoughts, Mulder.'

********************************

As if he realized where Skinner's look had fallen, Mulder shifted uncomfortably again and damned if he didn't try to cover his crotch with his suit jacket. But Skinner knew what he'd seen - the bulge was unmistakable. Now he remembered Mulder coming into the office earlier, very close behind Scully - obviously to hide his...condition... from Skinner.

Goddammit this was too much! Not only did Mulder disrespect him at every possible opportunity but to come into his office with a fucking huge hard-on. There was only so much a man could take.

Out of the corner of his eye, Skinner saw Mulder lean forward and press his forearm into his crotch, surreptitiously trying to adjust himself.

'Is there something wrong Agent Mulder?!' Skinner snapped. Mulder looked at him with desperate eyes. 'Uh, no sir.'

'Do you need to go to the bathroom?'

Mulder was stony-faced but Skinner caught Scully glancing at him with an amused look on her face. What a fucking tease! God knows what she'd done to poor Mulder to get him into this state before a meeting! Now she was just sitting back and enjoying the show.

He wasn't far wrong. The warm glow of sex still felt fantastic between Special Agent Dana Scully's legs. Just squeezing her thighs together sent little ripples of pleasure up into her belly. She could barely wait to get Mulder back to the basement and unleash the sleeping giant she'd glimpsed in his boxers. That sent more than a ripple up her back. Never in a million years had she imagined that their first encounter would be so hot; so sudden, so downright DIRTY! She felt again his fingers impaling her - the best he could do at such short notice. God, she'd never come that fast - like a horny teenaged boy, not a 36 year old woman. She throbbed at the memory and she felt giddy with excitement. 

However, it didn't change the fact that Mulder had a) locked the basement door - apparently in expectation of seducing her or b) left her out to dry on the Nevada expenses. 

So although her clit tingled at the thought of his touch, she was also quite enjoying the discomfort she'd left Mulder in. It showed him who was boss. Not that that boss wouldn't let him fuck her six ways till Sunday across his desk just as soon as they got back downstairs--

'Um. I think actually I do. Need to go.' Mulder got up and hurried from the room. Scully grinned at the door he shut behind him. Skinner fumed quietly at his desk. 

'Shall I go on sir?'

He didn't answer, so Scully started up again, going with a downbeat monotone for added mundanity.

Skinner barely heard her. He tapped his pen on his teeth as he frowned at his desktop. Then suddenly he got up.

'Excuse me please Agent Scully.'

'Sir?'

Skinner threw down his pen and stormed out.

Scully raised her eyebrow and blew out her cheeks. Shit. This was not good. Skinner was plainly furious with Mulder. The receipt fiasco had set him up for a bad mood and Mulder's constant fidgeting had obviously pushed him right over the edge. Scully had a bad feeling about this. Skinner had left the door open and now she looked towards the outer office and saw Kimberly watching her. Kimberly shrugged and gave a sympathetic half-smile that Scully knew she didn't mean. 

********************************

Skinner headed for the nearest men's room where he guessed he'd find Mulder. By the time he banged through the door he was beyond anger. Six years of lying for them, protecting them, and this is how Mulder repaid him? He couldn't even take the job - take HIM - seriously enough to keep his dick in check during a meeting with his superior? Fuck knows what he and Scully had been doing down in the basement this morning. Had maybe ALWAYS been doing. The sudden thought that he may have been covering for them all this time so they could check into motels across the country and fuck each other stupid made his blood boil. And it loosed another feeling in him too. He recognized it and immediately pushed it away, denying it categorically. There was nothing to be jealous of. Let them screw each other, he thought hotly, what did he care? But if they were fucking on FBI time, he'd be a fiddler's bitch before he sanctioned the Bureau picking up the bill.

'Mulder?!'

Agent Donohoe zipped up quickly and nodded briefly at a cubicle as he hurried out of the bathroom, eager to be away from the site of what looked like being an AD Skinner meltdown.

The catch on the cubicle door wasn't pushed quite home, so Skinner banged the door open without further thought. 'MULDER?!' Then he stood and gaped at the sight before him. 'Jesus!'

Fox Mulder - stiff cock in hand, his shoulders braced against the wall of the cubicle and his feet apart, eyes wide with surprise as he turned to look at Skinner.

'Uh, Sir?'

Skinner felt heat envelop his head like a bag of flames as he stood, momentarily at a loss - wishing he'd stayed in his office; in his bed this morning; in the goddamned army - anywhere apart from where he was standing right now. 

He had no idea why he was here or what he'd wanted to say to Mulder. He was numb to everything but the sight before him.

He realized he was staring - straight at Mulder's erection. It was fucking huge. Skinner had seen hard cocks in the army - some of the men were less than discreet about when and where they masturbated - but nothing to quite match this. Skinner felt a stab of irritation that rushed him back to the problem in hand, so to speak. Goddamn typical - Some skinny, insubordinate geek like Mulder having a big one when - as far as the rumour mill went - he never even used it.

Except he was using it now - or had been about to before Skinner bust in. The thought gave Skinner grim satisfaction. At last, he'd spoiled Fox Mulder's day, instead of the other way round.

In the seconds it took all these thoughts to flash through Skinner's brain, Mulder was trying desperately to subdue his hard-on and zip up, but in his embarrassment and panic he was having little success. 

He was blushing like a schoolgirl too, and Skinner suddenly felt the balance of power of their relationship shift in his favour. It was a long time since that had happened, and it felt so good that he could only think of pressing home his advantage.

So, instead of backing out of the cubicle muttering his apologies, Walter Skinner suddenly stepped right into Mulder's personal space and eyeballed him - nose to nose. Mulder's eyes kept dropping to his crotch and Skinner could feel the Agent's fumbling hands brushing against him as Mulder continued the losing battle to put his erection out of sight, and suddenly Skinner realized that the heat from his face was shooting rapidly to his groin. He was shocked and disgusted by his own reaction, but that very shock and disgust led to another sexual thrill in his cock and balls and a warm spasm in his ass - the excitement of the forbidden, of the base, of the shameful.

As he looked at Mulder's embarrassed eyes, he felt control returning to him, and he loved it. Who cared if it was in a situation which bare moments before would have seemed inconceivable to the straight-laced Assistant Director? He'd been a Marine for god's sake. Adapt or die. And adapting to this particular situation suddenly seemed more like an urgent need - a need that was building up rapidly in his groin.

Skinner reached down and roughly pushed Mulder's hands aside. Mulder had got his zip halfway up, but Skinner yanked it down again, feeling the other man's hot cock under his knuckles, and seeing Mulder suck in his bottom lip at the touch.

'Sir. I--'

'Shut up Mulder.'

'But I--Unnnnnnnnggh'

Skinner released Mulder's cock and grasped it hard in his fist. Mulder gasped and his hips twisted protectively.

'Sir, I'm not--'

'Nor am I. Stand still Agent Mulder.' Skinner hissed the words. His eyes never left Mulder's face as he started to jerk the younger man’s cock roughly in his hand. Mulder's eyes flared with shock and humiliation, and both those things were an aphrodisiac to Skinner. Fuck Mulder and his X-Files and his sullen mouth and his thousand-yard stare. He had him right where he wanted him: hating it and wanting it and unable to control it. HE was in control here, and Mulder would do what HE wanted, for once in his goddamned life. He put his left arm across Mulder's chest, holding him fast against the wall, trapping him there while all the time his right hand worked his rigid, pulsing cock.

Mulder's breathing became shallow and fast. Skinner could see his pulse throb in his throat and fought an urge to lean forward and kiss it. He wasn't a fucking homo - just wanted to teach Mulder a lesson about who was in charge, and this opportunity had presented itself. Adapt or die. Even so, Skinner couldn't help thinking how gorgeous Mulder was. His bottom lip was caught by his straight white teeth, holding in the small moans and hitches that Skinner could hear in his throat; his eyes were half-closed, and had gone dark and liquid with desire; his brow was furrowed, making him look bewildered - as if he didn't know quite what was happening to him.

Skinner enjoyed that look: 'Some fucking X-file, huh Mulder? Try working this one out.' 

He jerked harder and then almost came in his pants as Mulder let go a low moan and started to fuck his fist back, speeding up the assault on his cock, using Skinner now as much as he was being used. His back arched against the wall and his splayed fingers sought a grip on the smooth steel. His hips bucked frantically and Skinner looked down between them in wonder as Mulder suddenly exploded in his hand, cum shooting in great spurts onto his face, his shirt front, his pants and finally spilling over and down his fingers. Mulder's cheek was turned against the cool steel wall, his eyes squeezed shut as the shuddering orgasm stiffened his whole body, his hips thrusting erratically now, his big cock slippery in Skinner's astonished palm.

AD Skinner released Mulder's erection and moved back a few inches, gasping at what he'd just witnessed; at what he'd just caused; at what he'd just felt - and was still feeling. The pressure between his legs was overwhelming; he felt faint as his own dick strained for release. Mulder's chin dropped to his chest, breathing hard and deep, years of tension released from his tight body in shuddering waves, spikes of damp hair stuck to his forehead.

Watching the exhausted man in front of him, Skinner had a moment when he almost came to his senses. A moment when the enormity of what he'd just done threatened to overwhelm him; a moment when he very nearly regained his self-control... 

And then Fox Mulder opened his eyes and looked at him. 

Skinner knew the look of a woman's eyes when he'd made her come, but never in his wildest dreams would he have guessed that a man could ever look at him that way. Mulder tilted his chin up defiantly, his eyes half-open, veiled by thick lashes, and dark with a lazy, sensuous fulfilment. Skinner raised his hand to Mulder's lips and forced a cum-laden finger into the agent's beautiful mouth. Mulder sucked on it gently, and his tongue ran over his bottom lip to collect a pearl of his own seed.

With an inarticulate, animal groan, Skinner spun Mulder's loose body around, slamming him up against the wall, pushing his arms over his head and spreading his legs as though he were going to frisk him. But then his hands gripped Mulder's hips and pulled them towards his own. He yanked Mulder's pants off his ass, gasping at the sight of the skin there. Mulder's cock nestled in a bed of dark hair, but his ass was smooth and pale and lean. This time Skinner saw fear on the face that was turned against the wall. Fear and desire.

Skinner had never done this. Had never even considered doing it; not consciously anyway. But now the moment was upon him, lust cleared the way. Holding Mulder's hips still with one arm, he freed his own hard cock, angrily tugging at his pants when they wouldn't release him fast enough, and grunting through gritted teeth: 'I'm gonna fuck you so hard, Mulder. I'm gonna show you who's boss.'

Mulder said nothing, just pressed his ass back against Skinner a little. For the second time, Skinner almost came. 

'Mulder?'

Scully opened the cubicle door and stood in shock at the sight before her. AD Skinner was about to rape Mulder! His hands were on Mulder's ass, and his thick, hard cock was pointed straight at her partner's... er...straight at her partner!

'Sir!'

Skinner didn't change position, just looked at her.

'Agent Scully--'

Scully pulled her weapon and pointed it at Skinner.

'Step away from Agent Mulder Sir!'

'Dammit Agent Scully!'

'Are you okay Mulder?' His face was still turned away from her, pressed against the wall of the cubicle. 

'Mulder?!'

Now he slowly turned to face her.

Scully saw the look in his eyes and heard his ragged breaths - and faltered. If this morning had never happened, she would still have recognized the blatant sexual arousal in her partner's face. She dropped her gaze to his naked hips and saw his erection still there. Her eyes widened in surprise, looking from him to Skinner and back - asking an unspoken question.

When Mulder answered her, his voice shook a little:'Shut the door, Scully.'

Scully slowly lowered her weapon and took a shaky step backwards. She pulled the door closed behind her. 

Regret hit her like a tsunami. What had happened? What had she ALLOWED to happen? If only she hadn't been such a bitch this morning. If only she'd put her hands or her mouth on Mulder's cock; it would have taken seconds - by his own desperate admission, he would've come in an instant. If only she hadn't instead thought it so funny to see him suffer in Skinner's office as he struggled with his aching balls and persistent hard-on. None of this would have happened. By now they'd have been back in the basement, exploring each other's bodies the way they'd explored each other's minds for six long years. 

If only.

As she stood in the men's room, dazed, staring at the steel cubicle door, she heard Skinner's grunt and Mulder's sharp intake of breath as the Assistant Director took control of his favorite agent.

END


End file.
